No Time to Regret
by CherryRipe765
Summary: She was no longer a timid little girl, certain people made sure of that. But for the most part she stayed a Stark and Tully to her bones and that meant duty before love. With all of Westeros recovering from war, she could not now love a man, who was once her husband, when it was all too late to matter. Sansa/Tyrion, Sansa/Willias


305 AC, A Year After the Winter that Burned. 

She looked at the gold trimmings on the green curtains that canopied the bed, her view obscured by a few strands of copper hair. The heavy weight of her husband's arm draped over her stomach pinned her to the mattress she lay atop of and the permanent smell of flowers was stuck to both the air and her husband. Her handsome husband, tall, kind, wise but crippled as a child. However his... predicament did not affect her like her first husband's had. Her change on the matter mainly due to her no longer being a child, having aged in mind quicker than she did in body over the last five years.

She often found herself awake at night, staring at the green and gold of House Tyrell. Wondering how she had come to find herself trading the white and grey of winter for the colours of spring and becoming another piece in the Tyrell's attempt for power. Though only a fool would look at her marriage to Willas and believe it to be the flower that was in charge. While he spent his time breeding horses, hawks and hounds she ruled the North, the Vale and the Riverlands from the Reach as the only surviving heir after the reign of the False Kings. It was clear to anyone just who was in power.

Yet she did not believe Willas to be like his late father and grandmother. Although he had the mind for it he did not seek to play the Game, much unlike his sister and now Lady-Wife. The thought of his reluctance drifted her mind to the conversation they shared not so many days before. They had walked arm in arm through the rows of roses in Highgarden, as they had done at dusk, everyday for the past month. They travelled at a slow speed due to the walking stick Willas was dependant on, though whenever he felt the need to apologise for their lack of pace, she merely wave it aside saying the speed was her fault for she had come to love the views of the gardens. So he accepted her claims as such and they continued through the gardens sharing trivial words as husbands and wives do. They travel on to the heart of the gardens, where they knew the plants grew thicker and the ears of others grew further away. There they talked of the matters of all four realms that were under their protection, no longer just husband and wife but partners in the affairs far greater than their marriage.

"You don't have to hold all the responsibility of three Kingdoms all on your own. There are many who would happily serve your realms in your name." He knew too well the stress that she was under, especially after the sudden short winter. The North had recovered from the winter as it always did, but the Riverlands and the Vale were not recovering as quickly as the North had done. This was not aided by the entirety of Westeros still suffering the aftermath of war.

"The winter took its toll on the people of the Riverlands and those of the Vale the most, the North is not as bad though," she turned to face him front on, still holding on to his hand. "I don't know how I'm going to feed my people, each day goes by and I receive a new death toll, masses dying from starvation and the previous wars have not made the numbers any less. It seems only the Gods know why they still follow me, I have dragged them from war to war all while they suffer at the hand of a winter that, thanks to the Gods, only lasted four years. " She was stressed and she had left it to build up upon her shoulders over the course of time, but she always felt relaxed in her husband's presence and now the weight of her worries crashed off of her shoulders and into his arms as she wrapped herself in them.

"It's alright sweet wolf," he had tried soothing her with words as he steadied himself on the cane in his right hand. "I am sure the Royce woman, will more than willingly see to the Vale in your name. And could your mother not look after the North whilst you are not there." He had pulled back from her in order to see her face, the warmth of love in his golden eyes was only for her. He stilled himself on his cane and raised his left hand to brush the strands of fire off of her face. She knew all too well that her husband had come to love her in the short time they had been together. She a girl of ten and nine had won the love of a man ten years her senior who did not love for beauty but wit. Though she was certain her beauty played a part in it too.

"Myranda? She already does too much for me when it comes to the protection of the Vale. As for my mother, the state she is in, she has not been a Stark in years and the prospect of new life after death had not made her kind. There is a reason they called her Lady Stoneheart, she has very little compassion left in her. The North men will not flock to her, they will always need a Stark, always." The condition of her mother was not something she wished to discuss with anyone except the only other person she knew to have loved her mother in one way or another, Brienne.

"And for the Riverlands, I have no idea! There has not been a Tully in the Riverlands for almost six years. They still have not found my Uncle and Brynden will not listen to my pleas, I have begged him to sit upon the seat of Riverrun, to take his rightful seat but no, 'Why would they listen to me dear, you are the one that freed the people for the Frey's.'" Her attempt at mocking her mother's uncle was shocking and poorly done. Yet it brought a laugh out of her husband which stilled her from her pacing she had not been aware she was doing.

Willas limped his was over to her and rested his free hand on her shoulder. "Oh Sansa, how can you not see he is right. The people of the North, the Riverlands and the Vale do not follow you because you are the heir to their lands but because you freed them. You liberated the Vale, finally letting a kingdom that had gone quiet and become over looked, play in the Game. They did not support Bælish, they supported you their late Lady's niece not that bloody bastard." He had nothing but hatred for the late Petyr Bælish, something they shared in common.

"And once you had made your way to the Riverlands, they did not give their swords to him even though he was Lord Paramount of the Trident. No, they saw you, red of hair, eyes so blue they appear as steel, they saw the beauty of a Tully with the name of a Stark and they swore their allegiance to you and you cleaned their lands of Frey's and any who supported the Lannister's. The North were just the same, they too gave their swords to the last known Stark, and again you gave them what you promised, a land free of the Bolton's and therefore free of the Lannister's. They followed you through that war because they could, not because they had to. They chose you and they would have died for you on the fields during the winter because they love you." His hand had come to rest on her cheek as he stared at her face in what could only be described as wonder and pure love. He opened his mouth on the brink of continuing on, but his words caught themselves in his throat. She brought her own hand up to rest atop of his, and his previous words which had been trapped slipped free. "As do I."

She held his hand in both of hers and stared at his fingers and palm as she traced them with her own. "The second war was different though, I was no longer taking back what was theirs but pledging alliance to the Dragon." Her voice was timid as she spoke to her husband's hand, she knew he picked up on her hesitance due to him finally admitting her loved her but she couldn't bring herself to accept it once it was spoken though she has known for quite some time.

"And you saved them from a death similar to that of those who supported the reign of the False Kings. The four of you Lord's and Lady's took the realm back and placed the True Queen on her throne. Daenerys is a good Queen, she is honest and just, what the Kingdoms needed and she is there thanks to the Dragon, the Sun, the Wolf and the Lion."

The mention of the Lion, brought her back to the bed she shared with her husband, staring at the gold and green of House Tyrell. Tears streamed down the side of her face, only a few, though she was not sure what or who she cried for. Was it her husband beside her? Whose weight she felt across her shoulders and stomach, she was certain a few of those tears were for him. He had bestowed her with nothing but kindness and love, to the point where their bed was as pure as the night of their marriage. Yet she could not find it in her to let herself love him back, as she knew she could. Yes, a few of her tears were for him but most of them fell from her eyes for a Lion, so far from where she laid.

A man she had come to love once it was too late for her to do so, a man who had been kind to her, who had once wanted her love. But now he has nothing for her but distaste, for reasons she still did not know. The last Lannister alive, she cried tears for how desperately she wished it was him she was married to, how desperately she wished it was his bed she shared. That alone made the tears fall from her eyes. She hated herself for the way she had treated him when they were married, she hated herself more for falling in love with his kindness when she realised just how rare it was to find. But what she truly hated was that she wished for that little man whilst she lay in the same bed as her husband. She had everything she had once dreamed of as a child right beside her in the form of Willas. A man who was handsome, kind, sweet and clever and most importantly he loved her with all his heart, it was as obvious as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West. Yet the Little Lion was who she wanted, who had her heart and once, a time long gone, she had him but he did not want her once he had found his way back to Westeros as the Hand to the Queen. She was unsure who she blamed more for the failure that was their marriage, herself or Tyrion. Though she had a feeling it was herself.

She fell asleep that night with her pillow drenched in silent tears as she stared at the gold and green bed canopy wishing the green to turn to red. 

* * *

It was the songs of birds that raised her from her dreamless slumber. She rolled in her bed to find it empty as she did every morning, Willas finding company in his horses long before the sun has the chance to rise. She was up and dressed, as quickly as she was every morning, in cloth of Tully blue in the styles often worn by the women in the Reach. Sleeveless, low bust and her back fully covered in order to hide the scars she has received since she first set foot in King's Landing. She waved her handmaiden's pardon and sat herself at her vanity. Staring at her reflection she brushed out her hair, leaving it out like she had always done when she was a child. She looked at her reflection and saw not just the beauty that was talked of throughout the Seven Kingdoms but the effect the wars had on her. Not just physically but she believed, if she looked into her own eyes long enough she could almost see the very acts that had painted her hands with blood.

She kept staring, losing herself in the past and was jolted out of her haze by a thundering knock on her door. Snapping her head back to look at the heavy oak, she spoke with the voice of a high born Lady, "come in." She could not help but smile when Brienne entered the room, make alarming amounts of noise with each step she took, due to the copious amount of armour she donned. "My Lady, where is it today we shall be heading?" Brienne stood beside the door with her hand behind her back, she was the most loyal guard in all of the Seven Kingdoms and by luck she fought for her, Sansa Stark.

"Well, I am yet to break my fast, would you care to join me Brienne?" She asked as she rose from the vanity and made her way over to Brienne. "Of course My Lady," she bowed her head and rested her hand on the handle of her sword. Sansa halted at the door with her hand resting on the wooden frame, she turned her body to face Brienne, "it's Sansa." Brienne bowed her head again as she followed her Lady out of the room muttering the word, "Sansa." 

* * *

The morning had passed by her, without notice, locked up in the library. Sorting through the affairs of the North, the Riverlands and the Vale with only Brienne for company lead to hours of silence. Neither of them had made a noise until the Sun hanged in the west of the sky and Sansa released and exhausted sigh. "My La- ... Sansa," Brienne corrected herself when she received Sansa's expected gaze, "is there a problem?" Sansa dragged her hands down the front of her face, the demands and need for help from many of the small folk was exceeding the forces and supplies they had available and added to the stress she was suffering from.

"I need to travel north, these have been tough times but this is too much. I need to sort out these affairs in person and appoint someone with a bit of common sense to watch over the realms for me." She had rested her elbows against the surface of the table she was seated at, her head having fallen into her hands where she stared at the numbers that kept increasing and decreasing with each letter she opened. Looking at all the scrolls around her she let her thoughts slip out past her lips, "how does my husband do it?" It was barely a whisper and for that she prayed it had not been heard by the other woman in the room. But such luck would not bestow her.

"Willas? Ha, that man doesn't deal with half of what you do, doesn't have half the brain either." Brienne had laughed a soft, faint sound not at all like the hearty, rumble she usually let out. In a voice as soft as Brienne's laugh, she responded, "no truer words have been said Brienne." Her guard continued to laugh at the words she had said but she wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of her lungs. 'Not that husband, my first husband, the one a thousand miles away. The one who had been kind and sweet when others had nothing but hatred and pain to gift me with. The one I long for, the one I dream of, the one I love.'

Except she didn't, she let those words stay behind her lips and kept them circling around her head, never breathing life to them in hopes that they would disappear. She stood up from her chair and made her way to the window to watch the gardens and the birds that fluttered from tree to tree above the flowers. "Come Brienne, it is time we headed to the gardens, Willas will without doubt be waiting already." As she continued to stand at the window she could see the distinct grey of Mockingbirds swooping in the air and as she stalled, her face moulded in disgust as Brienne walked over to stand behind her and stare out of the window with her. "I hate Mockingbirds." 

* * *

Walking arm in arm, both Sansa and Willas stared at the pink tinted sunset that washed over the acres of flowers. It appeared to set the sky alight but they both know what a sky of fire truly looked like, both having been present in King's Landing on the Night of Flames. Yet it had a certain beauty to it, this fire of pink and blue, purple and gold. She turned to look at her husband to comment on its beauty but her words halted in her throat when she saw the light in his golden-brown hair. It flickered throughout his curls and turned many of the strands blonde. She followed the light down his face, across his cheeks, along his jaw and she could not help but appreciate the fact that her husband was handsome, far beyond words. She continued on down his face and rested on his lips to notice that they were pulled up showing rows of white teeth.

"Why are you smiling?" She was curious as to what could cause such an act. He was always smile, it was one of the beautiful things about him she found herself enjoying but he only ever grinned the way he was in that moment, when his family was involved. The grin dropped from his face and was replaced with mock insult, "why are you staring at my face?" he let go of her arm and brought his hand up to his cheek patting it, "is there something on my face?" They had come to a stop, standing face to face only a few inches apart. A smile filled her own lips as she watched him, she may not return his love but she felt happy in his company. She asked him again but not a seriously as the first, "why are you smile?" her own smile present in her words.

"You have quite an influence over the Queen you know? She sure loves you, and I don't blame her you have many qualities worth loving," he rested his free arm on her upper arm as he rested his weight on his cane. "Why do I have influence over the Queen?" her smile flattering ever so slightly, few had influence in making of the Queen decisions, she knew many of them and would call most of them friends, but for her to be classified as one was something she did not believe and did not need others believing. Willas noticed her flatter but continued on, still smiling. "We have been invited to a wedding, a Royal wedding," the smile on his face grew bigger with each word he said. "In King's Landing, as honorary guest, at the wedding between Aegon Targaryen and Margaery Tyrell. I wonder who would have planted that little seed." He stared down at her with a knowing smile and as he does every other day he brushed her hair from her face. She couldn't help but look back at him and gift him with her most flattering smile. 

* * *

**Hello you there, hi. This is my first ASoIaF fic. It is a Sansa/Tyrion story with a dash of Sansa/Willas as well. I know it doesn't look like such at the moment but it will get there. It's set after ADWD and follows to different time lines, one directly after the book and another later down the line. Um yeah I hope you all enjoy it, please review and follow if you wish, all help and criticism is welcome. Bye E.  
**

**Oh and I own nothing. **


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